Bury Me
by jivvin
Summary: Well, /that/ wasn't something Tony has expected, at all. Sure, he always advocated for the Hulk, and he knew the good doctor has become quite more accepting of that part of him over the years, but to have him actually trying to /help/ his alter-ego? That was… surprisingly uplifting. Until it wasn't anymore.


A/N: So, this one was inspired by the deleted Bruce Banner scene in _The Avengers_ (particularly the "I'm not sure anymore" line) and the visual perfection that is _Bladerunner_ (painfully obvious reference to which in the second and third segments is painfully obvious). It is set somewhere between _Iron Man 3_ and _The Avengers 2_. It is sort of in continuity with my other fics - Time to Say Goodbye and Almost But Not Quite Free - and has references to them, but you don't have to read them to understand what's happening here. Hope you like it :)

* * *

In Tony's opinion, the actual worst thing about it was that _Rogers_ was the first one to notice.

"Is everything okay with Dr. Banner? He's been awfully quiet lately, more so than usual."

And it's not that the guy was particularly unobservant, or that Banner wasn't his friend, it's just that _Tony_, for all of his genius, hasn't got a single clue that something was off.

Of course, now that he was thinking about it, he could actually tell there was a noticeable amount of extra "quietness" on the physicist's part ever since he appeared at the doorstep of the Tower two weeks ago, in the middle of the night, a hesitant ask to stay "for just a day or two" hidden inside a torrent of apologies that almost made Tony cringe.

He was used to this side of his friend though. Ever since they first met on the Helicarrier, brought together by the impending alien doom, they tended to stick together, their friendship instant and lasting, though not without some bumps along the way: the man all but fled on him a couple of weeks after the invasion, giving barely any explanation other than some vague "need to be away". He returned six months later though, with a beard and a fresh batch of apologies, and stayed at the floor Tony has built for him, and worked with Tony on some of his projects, and brought the other guy on the missions Fury immediately loaded them with. Until he ran away again, that is.

Well, that was how Banner was. Staying too long in one place made him kind of restless, and next thing you know – he's shaking your hand, a duffel bag over his shoulder and an apologetic smile on his lips, saying his goodbyes. He barely changed over the time.

Hulk did though. He was… a lot of fun, actually. A real team player when he needed to be. No, really, he has even become pals with Thor and, together, they were a sight to behold. "Force of nature" type of thing.

Others were there too, of course. Tony was quite surprised, but this whole "team" thing was actually working out rather well. Rogers, who was billionaire's biggest concern in terms of getting along with, was not half-bad once he got that self-righteous stick out of his ass. Barton was really fun to have around, Thor could be downright hilarious, and even Romanoff, who still creeped Tony out on a regular basis, was not that hard to get used to. Somehow, somewhen this rag-tag band of misfits has become… well, sort of his family, really.

Not that he would ever say it out loud.

But now something was up with one of his friends. Something has got him detached and reclusive and quiet (well, _more so than usual_) and probably _thinking_. And while Banner thinking science was an actual blessing to the world, him being _introspective_ usually resulted in a disaster.

"_Do you want to know my secret, Agent Romanoff?"_

So that's why Tony Stark headed down to the doctor's lab and found the man in question hunched over a large piece of machinery of dubious nature, concentrated and oblivious to his surroundings.

"Hey, Big Guy, whatcha working on?" billionaire called upon walking in the lab, smirking as he saw the physicist start and turn to face him, his expression surprised and weary.

_Yep, definitely something's up._

"Oh, hi, Tony," the man greeted him with an obviously forced cheer. "Thought you were supposed to be on that conference today?"

Oh, yeah, that clean energy conference that he _promised_ to Pepper he'll attend. Was it today though? Doesn't matter.

"All work and no play…" he shrugged. "So what is it?"

"It's, uh… It's a Gamma Pulse machine, sort of." Tony didn't miss the way his friend started to wring his hands, or how he moved, ever so slightly, to stand in front of the device.

"Kinda thought you were done with gamma, Banner," he asked incredulously.

"So did I," the physicist answered darkly. Then shook his head and went on more calmly. "But it's… important. Or it will be, once I finish it."

"Problems?"

"Engineering… is not really my forte," he frowned, "and this thing needs to be calibrated very precisely…"

"I can take a look at it," Tony suggested readily.

"What? No, no, thanks, Tony, that really isn't necessary," Banner mumbled, shaking his head again. "You've got enough to worry about in the company to distract yourself with my personal projects."

Tony didn't give up. "You said it was pretty important."

"It is," Banner said quietly, not looking at the other man. His hands were clasped together with a force that must have been painful, and there were dark circles under his eyes. _He doesn't sleep._

A phone in billionaire's pocket buzzed and vibrated. He hung up without even looking at it.

He decided to try a different approach. "What are you trying to achieve, exactly?"

Banner took another small step to the side, sighed and looked at Tony. "Well, I want this carefully calibrated gamma-ray flash to catalyze the epinephrine-based compound's…"

"Are you recreating your SS serum experiment?" Tony tried and failed to hide the disbelief in his voice. Of all the things he could've imagined the doctor doing here, this one was…

"No," Banner scowled. "The radiation dosage is different, and the 'serum' isn't Erskine's design, it's…"

"What are you trying to do here?" Tony interrupted, trying to get to the bottom of the problem. Because by now he was fairly certain that they did, in fact, have a problem on their hands. He just wasn't sure about the scope of it.

In his pocket, the phone buzzed again, and was once again hung up on without a single glance.

"If everything goes right," Banner shrugged, "to, uh, strengthen the other guy."

The billionaire lifted an eyebrow at his friend. "Does he even _need_ to be stronger?"

"No, not the physical strength. He will…" the man narrowed his eyes, as if trying to find the exact words for what he was thinking about. "It will stabilize him. Yeah."

Well, _that_ wasn't something Tony has expected, at all. Sure, he always advocated for the Hulk, and he knew the good doctor has become quite more accepting of that part of him over the years, but to have him actually trying to _help_ his alter-ego? To go back to the gamma research not for the cure, but for this? That was… surprisingly uplifting.

"You mean you'll be in better control of him when he's out?" he wanted to specify.

"Tony, I was _never_ in control when he's out. When he's there, I'm gone."

Well, you can't get more uplifted than _that_, now can you?

"Don't be ridiculous. I've been there when he was there and, believe me, you were there too." Not his best one, sure, but that wasn't the point.

"That's a nice sentiment, Tony," and did he just _hate_ those words by now, "but I don't think you can be considered an expert on the subject. So if there's nothing…"

"Yeah, actually there is." _You're not getting off the hook so easily._ "What's…"

His phone buzzed again, and Tony pulled it out of his pocket to hang up on whoever was bugging him in irritation. This time he actually looked at the display though. It was Pepper.

_Well shit_.

"Pepper?" Banner asked, sympathy evident in his voice. How did he know? Was Tony's face so transparent, or did the physicist just know his friend that well? It was probably a bit of both.

"Yeah, shit, turns out I _really_ have to be on that conference. Shit." He actually had to be there an hour ago. He had three missed calls and a dozen unread texts from Pepper, some of which were sent to him yesterday evening. So if he wasn't on site, like, _right now_… this had all the potential to get ugly. Peps was his girlfriend, but even that won't get his tail out of the firestorm that was her wrath. "I'll get back to you on this later, Banner," Tony said, pocketing his phone and storming out of the lab and towards the elevator.

He'll return in the evening. Banner wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

He did return in the evening. Late, late in the evening, somewhere between 11 pm and midnight. He was exhausted, ready to curl up around Pepper (who, of course, forgave him, because Pepper was just that wonderful) and sleep until he was absolutely needed again or the world was in immediate danger of collapsing in on itself without his salutary genius.

The worry from earlier was still present in him, albeit smaller, quieter. Banner would be _fine,_ there was nothing serious going on. He was just a little twitchy from the lack of sleep, a bit nervous, just a touch wary and… exposed.

Tony disliked the word. He came to dislike a lot of simple, otherwise harmless words since he met Dr. Bruce Banner. Words like "sentiment" and "sorry" and "low" and "I have to run and hide and live in a fucking shit because I honestly think that's the life I deserve".

So Tony just sighed, said Pepper something about how he'll be back in five minutes and took an elevator down to Banner's floor. There _was_ a small chance that the physicist was still up in his lab, but even if he wasn't, there was no harm in a simple check.

The lights in the floor's hall, as well as in the lab and the adjacent rooms, were off, meaning that the doctor was already asleep. Tony was about to turn around and go back to the penthouse, when something caught his eye in the open living room. A shape on the couch, unmoving and silent.

The billionaire took several steps into the room, coming closer to the couch. The shape was a human, and the faint glim of the moonlight in the glasses left no doubt that the man was exactly who Tony's been looking for.

Except he wasn't alone. There was a glass in his hand and a half-full bottle of scotch on the coffee-table in front of him to keep him company. The sight was… unsettling.

And it wasn't that Banner never drank alcohol, because he did, just not _scotch_ and not _alone in the dark_. That was actually one of Tony's favorite pastimes.

Besides, Tony was no master assassin, and his coming into the room wasn't in the least bit soundless, so having his friend just sitting there, not reacting to his presence was starting to creep the engineer out, and that's when he heard the silence suddenly broken.

"It's full moon now," Banner said out of the blue, his voice monotone and leveled, surprisingly clear. "I saw a full moon once, in Brazil, like a large golden coin. The water was black as ink, ice-cold, the foam on the waves… emerald-green." He paused for a second, and then went on without waiting for any reply. "I saw the skies of the east, with clouds burning during the sunset, purple and crimson and amber… Aurora borealis in the north, like fiery dust…" The man was obviously not drunk, well, not in a way Tony has ever been drunk before, and yet there was something definitely wrong about him. He was not just calm or relaxed, he was… still, like a statue, and it almost seemed like his voice was not coming out of his mouth, but radiating off of him without him ever moving his lips.

"Are you quite okay?" Tony asked hesitantly, his eyes never leaving the dim silver light on his friend's glasses.

"Can't you see it?" the physicist replied in the same peaceful, detached way. "Can't you tell that I'm feeling great?"

This was just too weird and absolutely too complicated for Tony to deal with in the middle of the night. He needed a clear head for this and, apparently, Banner did as well.

"Maybe you should go get some rest, buddy?" he suggested with what he hoped was sympathy and not just plain confusion he was actually feeling.

"Yeah," his friend exhaled, but made no actual move to stand up. "I just wanted to… to stay just a little bit longer. Before I go."

And that did sound all kinds of strange and confusing and a little bit unnerving, especially said in that empty dispassionate voice of his, but Tony decided to let it slide for now.

There was no hurry here. He will deal with it tomorrow.

* * *

The sky was heavy, deep black velvet, with no stars and the hot orange moon hung low on the horizon. It was raining, and the sounds of cold ink-colored drops rushing down almost drowned the distant roars of the waves breaking against the shore.

They were sitting on the roof, away from the edge, and Banner wasn't looking at him.

"I didn't want all of it to get lost," the man said with lingering sadness, a bitter smile on his lips. He was not wearing a shirt and his pants were torn, hanging loosely around his hips. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Tony thought he might have seen tears there, but it was pretty hard to tell if there were actually tears in that rain.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he shouted at Banner. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It doesn't matter now," the scientist shook his head, and then turned to look Tony in the eye. His smile was crooked and vicious. "I think it's time."

"Time for what?"

A terrible, violent roar split the sky and the rain, and a dark green shadow loomed over Banner's small form, blocking out the moon. Its breath was the sound of the tide, its eyes burned with an emerald flame, and its voice rumbled through Tony's skull, shattering his mind.

"TIME TO DIE."

* * *

Tony opened his eyes only to close them the very next second to stop the bright morning light from burning them to all hell. The dream was already hazy and dim in his mind, though the last words of it still stood out, Hulk's growl and Banner's smile equally surreal and frightening.

He didn't feel rested, and a vague uneasiness was weighing on the back of his consciousness ever since he stumbled on Rogers yesterday morning. "_Is everything okay with Dr. Banner?"_

No. Nothing was okay, but Tony wasn't quite successful in finding out why.

"JARVIS, what time is it?" he mumbled, dragging a hand over his face.

"It is 7:04 am, sir," the soft synthesized voice replied.

Well, that was outrageously early. Explained the absence of Pepper though. She was undoubtedly already up and about, running around in her killer heels and with her impeccable make-up, running his company for him.

"Is Dr. Banner already awake?"

"He is, sir. Dr. Banner got up exactly at 3:16 am and hasn't left his laboratory since."

"Thanks, man."

Tony got up from the bed slowly and headed to the shower. He'll have another try, another talk with Banner. The man can get downright irrational sometimes, stewing in his issues without anyone to come and shake him out of it. And this thing he was working on… "Stabilizing" the Hulk, whatever that meant. Something about the term was bothering Tony, something was stirring at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite grasp it.

He'll deal with it then and there. He'll go down to the lab again and won't get himself distracted this time. He'll press, he'll find out what's wrong and then he'll fix it. Simple as that.

* * *

On the other hand, it might be not so simple at all. It was even more likely, and the first sign of that was Banner's shirt – one of the discolored threadbare monstrosities the scientist always brought back from his "travels" and wore on the missions, so as not to destroy anything more expensive during a hulk-out. He also wore them in cases where the _risk_ of transformation was high enough – on the Helicarrier, or when he went out, or when Tony got himself in another protracted fight with Rogers or Pepper – or basically half the time, because, let's face it, the man lived in constant (and unfounded, Tony might add) fear of himself. He never wore them while in the lab though.

Except he did, today. Why?

"Why are you wearing that shirt?" Tony asked, entering the lab and coming straight to Banner, who was adding what looked like the finishing strokes to the machine, inputting a string of settings on a holographic panel.

"Uh, no reason…" the physicist replied in confusion. Tiredness muffled his voice and darkened the circles under his eyes.

_Press_, Tony remembered. _Get straight to the point._

"What do you mean 'stabilize'?" he asked casually. "You've never quite explained it."

The scientist took off his glasses – carefully, with both hands – and rubbed at his eyes before speaking.

"Well, just what it says on the tin. The transformation will be more stable, grounded, if you wish, harder to reverse…"

"How much harder?" That didn't sound so good.

"Quite harder, I think."

"_How much_ harder?"

There was a pause, and then a resigned whisper. "Near impossible."

That wasn't what he just heard, was it? It certainly couldn't…

"So what you're saying," the billionaire began slowly, his voice gaining more strength and volume as he went on, "is that you're gonna turn that thing on, hulk-out and then _never transform back_?"

"Well, basically…"

Tony took a step toward the man, disbelief in his tone quickly replaced by anger. "So what you're _saying _is that you were gonna _kill yourself_ in this very room…"

"Now, I wouldn't call it that…" the scientist tried to object, but was cut off.

"I don't care how you would've called it, Banner!" Tony shouted, taking another step forward. "You were going to fucking _die_ and leave the Hulk here…" He could not believe it. How, why… he almost missed it. The finishing strokes, fuck, what if he did not wake up from that dream or took his time getting down here or… no, _fuck no_.

"What?" Banner was looking away, and there was a smile on his face, that crooked, disgusting little thing that made Tony's blood boil. "I recall you saying – just yesterday, by the way, – that I was somehow magically _there_ when he was out, that I was present and even controlling him…"

"I know _I_ believe it, just as I know _you_ don't. So what the fuck… why the fuck would you _do_ something like this?"

_I got low…_

"I don't get why you are so mad at me," the physicist just shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. "I thought you'd be happy about it."

"Why _on Earth_ would I be happy about it, Banner?"

"Because it was your idea."

Something clicked in Tony's head then, some level of his consciousness went into overload, when the others worked above and beyond their capacity, trying to comprehend what was just said.

"That time we met on the Helicarrier," Banner went on, as if not noticing Tony's shocked expression at all, "remember, you said he was a part of me, that I had to embrace him, to trust him, you said he saved my life and did so for a reason…" His eyes were locked on Tony's now, and there was something in them, something raw and, fuck, something terribly exposed. "You were right, all along. I didn't believe you, of course, clinging onto my petty delusions, up until recently. But you were right." Now Banner was the one stepping closer, and Tony fought with all he had not to flinch away. "He's… a real hero. Not a monster, no, he never was. I am. All these years I hated him, repressed him, tried to destroy him, while he saved my life time and time again, saved _your_ life, Steve's, Natasha's, saved the world for crying out loud!" Yeah, that was exactly how Tony felt right then. Like crying out loud, like ending this nonsense. "There was some collateral damage, yes, but in the end he did more good for this world than I can ever hope to."

"That's good, right?" the billionaire tried to reason cautiously. "That's a good thing…"

Banner just shook his head, his expression changing from agitated and passionate to… to just sad, really.

"He is supposed to be standing here, not I," the man said quietly. "I'm holding him back, I'm holding everyone back…"

"That's bullshit, Big Guy, don't you even _think_ that way…"

"'What for?'" he said slowly. "Remember, I asked you whatever he's saved my life for, because I honestly hadn't had a clue. But I've thought about it, and I guess I know now." Resolution was strong in his voice, as well as conviction, and there was that gleam there again, raw and manic. Desperate. "_He_ was supposed to walk away from it _alone_, but the radiation dosages were too small, the transformation was unstable, reversible. That's why I survived it – to finish what I've started, to help him get his chance, his life…"

"What about _your_ life, you fucking idiot?!"

"What about it?" Banner snorted. "There's none to speak of, and it stopped mattering a _long_ time ago anyway. There was survival for a time, now it's just… going through the motions. It just doesn't matter," he whispered. "I don't matter. Hulk's the hero…"

"Hulk's the disgruntled child who's just happy to smash those pesky little humans, and _we_'re simply lucky he lets us point him in the direction we want!" This was getting ridiculous, frighteningly irrational, plain insane! Yes, he always wanted for Banner to start seeing his alter-ego in the positive light, but not at the cost of losing his last bits of self-esteem. "_You_ are the fucking hero here, Banner. Fuck, I can't even believe I have to spell this out for you! _You_ were the one to _choose_ to come back, to let him out…"

"No, I…"

"You what?" Tony tried to control himself, but it was getting increasingly harder. The words came out of his mouth rougher and louder than strictly necessary, and he was pretty sure the last one was a snarl. "Stayed human when people treated you like an animal? Stayed kind when the world was up in arms against you, stayed patient and forgiving when no-one cared? Please tell me, Banner, what was your hideous crime, one that makes you hate yourself so, makes you find new reasons for hate once the old ones don't work anymore."

That actually had an effect. The scientist startled and blinked in surprise a couple of times, as if coming to a sudden realization. Tony just hoped it was a right one.

But of course it wasn't.

"I… I don't…" Banner began weakly, then sighed and rubbed at his eyes again in frustration. "God, I'm so sorry, I'm so… You don't need this, I should have just…"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up." Leave it to Banner to come to exactly the wrong conclusion and start to apologize immediately. "I just don't get it, why didn't you… If you were feeling so- so low, why didn't you at least talk to me, to anyone? Even Romanoff will do, I guess, and she barely has any emotions in her…"

"You all have enough problems of your own to deal with, you especially, I wasn't going to encumber you with mine…"

It took all of Tony's self-restraint (which wasn't much, by the way) not to punch Banner square in the face right then and there. "Were you fucking serious right now?" he all but hissed. "Because I _know_ you've talked with Barton about his 'brainwashed and crazy' period, I _saw_ you hang out with Rogers and ease him into our brave new world, I _remember_, painstakingly clear, how you've found me on the floor of my workshop after that whole Extremis disaster, swimming in whiskey and vomit, and dragged me to bed, and listened to my drunken babbling and held my fucking hand and told me it wasn't my fault!" It was not okay, the whole conversation was just absolutely _not_ okay. "And, after that, do you think we will just push you away or something? Say 'Deal with your own petty problems, Banner'?"

"Yes, for a hundredth time, Stark!" there was that anger again. "This is my cross to bear and I won't burden _anyone_ with it! Why do- why do you even care so much if..."

There was a _smack_, and then a _thud_, and then silence, hollow and heavy.

Banner was sitting awkwardly on the floor, a hand on his jaw, staring right ahead of him with wide, slightly glassed over eyes.

"How _dare_ you say I don't…"

It was a shudder, no, a slight twitch in the scientist's shoulders that stopped Tony mid-sentence, lifted the haze from his mind and made him think, with some amazement, that maybe, just maybe, yelling at and then punching the man when he was in such unstable, unpredictable state of mind might present a certain amount of danger. He lowered his hand, fingers still clenched in a fist, and searched the doctor's eyes for a sign of incoming transformation, but saw no green in them. Only brown. And… red.

Banner's form was rigid, strained, his breathing shaky, but it wasn't the other guy that he fought to hold back.

Bruce Banner never cried. He just didn't.

Some part of Tony, one that was still thinking clearly and rationally, was impressed by his friend's amount of self-control and the way he was _willing_ it all down, _pushing_ it back inside, _smashing_ it so there was nothing left on the outside.

"_Do you want to know my secret, Agent Romanoff? Do you want to know how I stay calm?"_

Tony did not want to know, actually, because despite it looking impressive as hell, it also seemed quite unnatural and unhealthy. It made Banner brittle and light and ever-so-slightly ethereal.

And so Tony found himself kneeling beside the physicist in a fit of some unnamed, but extremely potent emotion currently squeezing and twisting his heart, and putting his arms around the man, and holding him close. He wanted to say something, some words of comfort and support, but didn't find a single one that wasn't useless or stupid or a cliché.

Time passed, and Banner remained silent and still in the billionaire's arms. It wasn't like in the movies – there were no trembling arms holding him in return, no shaking and sobbing, no tears wetting his shirt, nothing at all. Banner seemed to just… _be_ there. Finally, his breathing has evened, and he stirred, pulling slowly away, not meeting the other man's eyes. Movement seemed to drain the last of his strength though, because he just remained sitting on the floor, beside Tony, gaze fixed on some spot in front of him. And after a long, oppressive silence he spoke, voice hoarse and quiet, drained of emotion.

"I don't know what to do, Tony. I don't know what I am anymore. Thought I had a grip on it, but…" he whispered, heaving a small sigh. "I don't want to die. I just want to… stop living. Like this." He buried his face in his hands for a couple of seconds, then dragged them all the way to the back of his head, as if trying to physically wipe away the events of that morning. He looked around tiredly, and slowly stood up, grasping at the desk so as not to lose balance. "Sorry," he muttered.

"What for?" Tony asked, standing up as well. His dislike for this particular word reared its ugly head again, and he was ready to confront Banner on any and all of his stupid self-effacing fantasies.

"This was… really embarrassing," the physicist mumbled, wringing his hands absent-mindedly.

"More embarrassing than when I hit on you on that charity ball in front of Pepper and Rogers?" Tony tried with a grin.

And there it was – the undisputable proof that Bruce Banner had to, was absolutely required to live on and be Tony Stark's best friend and science bro. Because in a situation like this, when Pepper and Rhodey and Rogers would have just glared at him in exasperation or rolled their eyes or shook their heads, Banner actually tried to smile. He failed, of course, the result looking rather pathetic, only accentuated by the fading redness of his eyes, but it was the principle of things. It was one of the little things that made Banner who he was, that made him positively invaluable to humanity as a whole and Tony Stark in particular.

It was already gone though, with nothing to replace it. The physicist's face was blank once again.

"I don't know what to do…" the whisper filled the room, not addressed to anyone particularly.

_Right_, Tony startled. _Fix it. This is your cue, Stark, think something up, now_.

"Well, for starters, you can jump off a jet," he began casually. On meeting scientist's confused look though, he smiled and went on, with a certain amount of light cheer in his voice. "Remember, about a week or something after the invasion you told me about how you've jumped off a helicopter and stuff? I think I promised to take you for a ride on my jet over some forest or shit, but then there was the whole rebuilding bustle, and then you've gotten all depressed and ran away on me, so we never did it." He saw a guilty expression starting to form on the man's face, and went on a little quicker. "Or paintball. Or Russian food, or a Firefly marathon – anything to keep your mind off of that pile of bullshit that is your self-image. Then we'll regroup and figure out the next step. Like therapy or something. We'll find you some high-class shrink. Or a girl. Or both, two-in-one kinda thing…"

"You don't have to…" Banner began, then abruptly stopped and rubbed at his eyes with a bit of excessive force. "I can't believe it. God, you're putting all this effort into me, and I… just throw it back in your face. I'm so…"

"If you're gonna finish that sentence with an apology, Banner, I swear I will knock you out."

He was expecting anger. Frustration, maybe, irritation. Instead, he got… well, something. Something mixed and indecipherable, guarded and slightly incredulous.

"You're the first one, you know, since the accident." Even his voice was hard to read. "To hit me, knowing what I am."

Tony thought suddenly that it was probably the truth. That, if he strained his memory, he could recall people (him included) rarely touching Banner at all, never standing too close, never raising their voice at him. He also thought that, maybe, it was one of the reasons why the scientist believed, with stubbornness worthy of better application, that no-one actually cared.

The man in question frowned, then added quietly. "You've always believed in me."

"And you in me," Tony replied in the same muffled fashion. "You know I've worked for the Army, right?"

"I worked for them too," Banner shrugged. "Nothing special."

_Oh no, this was very fucking special_. "I worked for Ross," Tony said simply, keeping his tone light and his eyes away from his friend. "Equipped the Hulkbusters. Basically, every fucking bullet shot at you for the first six years after the accident had a little Stark Industries logo on it. Hell, even that cell on the Helicarrier is based on my older designs." He shook his head and looked at Banner again. "But you knew that, didn't you?"

The scientist shrugged once more, his voice even and casual. "You did what you thought was right. You helped the Army to catch a dangerous monster." _I'm not judging you, because I still think I don't deserve any better. Yeah, right_. Tony wondered, briefly, what was the trade mark on the gun that Banner tried to shoot himself with. He decided he did not want to know.

"I haven't even questioned them then, not once," he argued with regret. "I didn't care."

Banner didn't seem impressed. "Why would you?"

Oh, he could give dozens of reasons of why exactly he should have cared. Hundreds of them.

"But you knew," he said instead. "From the start. And you've never held it against me." He thought that it probably wasn't right, and, maybe, it would have been better if Banner was angry or bitter about it. If he just wasn't so damn accepting and empathic, and tried to be a little more selfish, at least for a change. His voice was a bit hoarse when he started to speak, his eyes never leaving Banner's. "I can't let you die, Bruce. And I won't. I don't care how much you want to 'stop living' or how selfish that makes me." He took a step toward the man, his tone becoming harder. "But I want you planning my bachelor party and then making sure I show up at the altar. I want you working with me on the next arc reactor and taking at least 50% of the credit. I want to come and sleep on your couch when Pepper and I will inevitably have a fight again, I want you to slap me back to reality once I get too old to play superhero, and, when the time comes, I want you to bury me. I don't want a fucking priest, I want you and maybe Rogers, saying something about me being the greatest hero he's ever known and shit. And you'll have to take care of Peps, she won't stop crying and will probably make a huge scene."

"Should I be disturbed by the amount of thought you've apparently put in that last one?" the scientist asked quietly, lifting one brow.

Tony just shrugged. "I have enemies."

"You have friends too," Banner replied softly.

"Well, you know, friends… They come… and go." He saw the physicist wince at the true meaning of those words. Tony hated resorting to guilt-tripping to win an argument, and the last thing Banner needed was any more guilt on his mind, but if that was what it took to keep him alive, then he will do it and he will feel just great.

Banner fell silent for quite some time, but when he spoke again, the question was not exactly what Tony was expecting.

"Are you really going to propose to Pepper?"

The sudden shift of topic caught Tony off guard, but he recovered quickly, blinking a few times to chase the confusion away.

"Not today," he replied hesitantly, "and maybe not even tomorrow, but, you know, eventually…" he trailed off, but then grinned, before asking. "What, did you doubt my noble intentions?"

Banner smiled sheepishly, and, for the first time in what felt like forever, his smile was warm and soft and a touch wistful. "I've never doubted you, Tony. I…" he closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath, sweeping the darkness away, pushing the guilt and the fear back inside, under the mask of reason and calm, with practiced ease. In a way, it was more disturbing than watching the man fall apart.

"I'm sorry."

Tony genuinely wanted to punch him again, but decided to save it for another time. After all, he'll have plenty of opportunities later.

Of course, now he'll have to dismantle the Gamma Pulse and wipe all of Banner's research on the subject, and not let the man out of his sight, and find a shrink (female, thirty-ish, attractive), and prepare the jet, and order a take-out from that Russian place… Because, yeah, nothing was okay and nothing was over, but Banner was still here. Green waves were still breaking against the shore, and the moon still shone through the inky rain, and, at least for now, his friend wasn't going anywhere.


End file.
